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COPHtlGHT DEPCSm 



SOMETHING SINGING 



BY 
MARGARET PERRY 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH 6- COMPANY 

1916 






■/: 



OrO 



NOV- 17 1318 

Copyhight, 1916 
Shermak, French df Company 



'C1.A4464:>0 



TO 
MY MOTHER 



CONTENTS 

Page 

Something Singing i 

The VeU 3 

Before the Dawn 4 

A Pyrrhic \'ictory 6 

The Choice 9 

The Coward 10 

When You were Here 11 

At Last 12 

A Valentine, Unsent 14 

Redemption 15 

A Birthday Song 17 

Forgiveness 19 

Her Ej-es 20 

A Prayer 21 

Your Colours 22 

Mnemosyne 24 

In Memoriam 25 

A Dream 26 

The Audacious Race 2S 

Mv Prison-wall 29 

The Master of the House 30 

A Happy Marriage 32 

SONNETS AND QUATRAINS 

In the Train 39 

Only a Year Ago 4° 

The Cost 41 



Page 

A Parting Gift 42 

The Harder Task 43 

War 44 

The Bequest 45 

The Trojan Women 46 

Mizpah 47 

What He Saw 48 

To His Old Love 49 

Waiting 50 

Now Grief is Dead 51 

To 52 

Hope 53 

Peace 54 

" Our Doubts are Traitors " 55 

Victory and Defeat 56 

An Offering 57 

Uncertainty 58 

Mourn Not 59 

At Your Feet 60 

Come, Radiant Death 61 

TRANSLATIONS 

Rondel 65 

Chant de Mai et de Vertu 66 

To Helen 68 

Sonnet 69 

Sonnet 7° 

Icarus 71 

Epitaph 72 



SOMETHING SINGING 



SOMETHING SINGING 

"Something singing! Listen! Hark! 
Is it sparrow, thrush or lark?" 
All I heard was a bird, 
Bravely singing. 

"Something singing!" 'Twas a child. 
Kin to all things small and wild, 
Heard him first as he burst 
Into singing. 

"Something singing! " Must I too. 
Never mind what Fate may do, 
Go ahead, live or dead, 
Ever singing? 

"Something singing!" Through the night, 
Where I lurked in Heaven's despite, 
Came a tone once well-known. 
Softly ringing. 

[i] 



"Something singing!" Daylight breaks, 
And my listening heart awakes, 
Gone is fear now I hear 
Birds a-singing! 



[2] 



THE VEIL 

My little puss that died last week, 

Leaving an ever-present pain, 
Could, as they say, do all but speak, 

Yet every thought and wish lay plain 
To those that loved him. Would that we 

For all our words could say as much! 
When comes a thought that sets us free. 

Seeking some well-loved heart to touch. 
Who has not found between two souls 

A filmy veil nought can break through? 
Try as we will, wide as the poles 

Asunder still am I and you ; 
And yet how deep our love — O God, 

Take quite away this gift of speech. 
Silent I'd be as any clod. 

Could but our hearts speak each to each! 
[3] 



BEFORE THE DAWN 

Before the dawn, how dark the night! 

A distant cock-crow brings no cheer, . 

Reminding me how once through fear 
A valiant man denied the Light, 
Before the dawn. 

The dew lies chill on field and wood, 
The silent stars, how far away! 
Though full of dread, I cannot pray, 

Life irks me, death alone seems good, 
Before the dawn. 

The moon is set, no sound is heard, 
The brooding earth expectant lies, 
Till through the hush thy rapturous sighs 
Ascend to Heaven, brave little bird. 
Before the dawn. 
[4] 



O wild wood thrush, that singest best 
In life's deep shadows, teach me how 
To lift my voice and praise God now, 

And trusting in His love, find rest, 
Before the dawn! 



[5] 



A PYRRHIC VICTORY 

One hour's keen joy he had, when first he 

saw 
And recognised in its entirety 
His sin. Long had he known all was not 

well, 
And vaguely sought to grasp and under- 
stand 
The cause of his engulfing misery. 
Until there came a voice from Heaven to tell 
That this slight shackle to full liberty. 
This trifling imperfection, merest flaw. 
Was leading him by dallying paths to Hell. 
With horror shrinking from a sin so base 
He felt an angel take him by the hand. 
As he with new-born courage set his face 
Against the current that had swept him on. 
Then in a flash he saw the battle won, 
And knew, for the first time, content. 
[6] 



In the beginning he was kindly spared 
Knowledge of what it ultimately meant 
To avert his eyes from those he loved, and 

fight 
With loyalty and kindness for his foes. 
The world saw nothing wrong until he 

turned 
From the old ways, and his companions rent 
Heaven with their outcry, impotently pleading 
For his return. Why take this lofty pose? 
They could have borne it if a saint had 

spurned 
The careless life which once they all had 

shared, 
From him it came as a rebuke, unearned; 
While they who also battled for the right, 
Who could have led him upwards to the light, 
Marked but the broken faith, the armour's dent. 
And not the man beneath who trembling, 

bleeding, 
Stood fast throughout with no thought of 

receding. 

[7] 



The conflict past, he scanned the grim result; 
Who could in such a victory exult, 
He pondered, counting all the weary toll? 
The cost had been too great, that much 

seemed clear, 
His life was shattered, hemmed about with 

fear, 
The battle's mark had seared his very soul; 
What though he stood at night-fall on the field, 
Alone, his foes dispersed, in full control; 
li over all that he should do or dare 
There henceforth hung this horror of despair, 
Whose was the gain, and wherefore should 

he wield 
His battered sword? No prize had come, to 

yield 
Its measure of encouragement; at best 
He found himself again 
Upon the self-same plain 

Whence the successful started on their quest 
In radiant youth. He had thought to reach 

life's goal 
And found himself at last, the race unrun. 
Before the starting-post when day was done, 
[8] 



THE CHOICE 

Why do I love you? Well, because 
When first I met your glance so keen, 

It flashed upon me what life was, 
Or might have been. 

Hating the past, I turned to you. 

And saw how at your humorous touch. 

Perplexity and doubt withdrew, 
And with them, much 

That long had held my soul in thrall. 
Flying like dreams the approach of day; 

But as my spirit's fetters fall, 
You turn away! 

Myself to gain and you to lose? 

That were a cruel bargain, dear; 
If choice must be, 'tis you I choose. 

Stay with me here ! 
[9] 



THE COWARD 

No tears let fall for him who from the field 
Withdrew before the battle was begun, 
Faint-hearted turned before the race was run, 
And basely sought a virgin sword to yield. 
Looking to Heaven to be to him a shield 
And not a trumpet-call to spurs well-won; 
Unlike to them who though forspent, undone. 
Through life's long day their blood-stained 
weapons wield. 



[lo] 



WHEN YOU WERE HERE 

When you were here, the year was new, 
You marked the brook and praised its 
chatter; 

Since then it only speaks of you, 

With manner kinder than its matter! 

When you were here, we strode along. 
Climbing this mountain road together, 

While overhead a thrush's song 

Spoke of love, springtime and fair weather. 

Now you are gone, the world is changed, 
The road we trod leads but to you; 

The silent thrush, from love estranged, 
No longer sings the song we knew. 



AT LAST 

Why should I lay my secret bare, 
Speak to the world my hidden woe? 
You'll read my tale, somehow, somewhere, 
And know. 

Too long I felt your silent doubt, 
No other shall suspect, exclaim; 
To you alone these lines cry out 
Your name. 

The truth you sought to disbelieve. 
The faithful love so long misprised. 
Shall be throughout the day, till eve 
Disguised. 

But when comes night revealing all. 
Both light of distant stars and scent 
Of earth, your mask you will let fall — 
Relent. 

[12] 



Our grief-worn hearts in that dim light 
Shall meet unmindful of the past, 
And truth shall triumph in the fight, 
At last. 



[13] 



A VALENTINE, UNSENT 

Stay, flaming rose, 'twould grieve her heart 

To see you fade away, 
Unloved, unwelcome and apart 

From every joy today. 

Once long ago your tale was new, 

Days distant yet so dear; 
Why say her lover still is true. 

When that is all her fear? 

Why thus recall another's pain, 

Her tender heart to fret? 
Best let her think he loves again. 

Who never can forget! 
[14] 



REDEMPTION 

O Christ, That savest the world, restoring 
Our vanished hope, our trust in man, 

A sinner kneels. Thine aid imploring. 
Thou must redeem, none other can. 

Those summer dawns for which he waited. 
Till he could leave his tear-stained bed, 

Those days of misery unabated. 

Through which he crept, once hope was 
fled. 

Such horror as his soul has tasted, 
He cannot tell, not even to Thee, 

Yet who dare say one pang is wasted 
If from his bonds it set him free? 
[15] 



He sought Thee long and could not find 
Thee, 

He sought Thee for himself alone, 
And in Thy human guise declined Thee, 

For grief had turned his heart to stone. 

But now, O Lord, that broken, beaten, 

Repentant unto Thee he turns. 
Remember not the husks he has eaten, 

Remember not the sin he spurns. 



[i6] 



A BIRTHDAY SONG 

Far from the paths of hounds or men, 
Here where the silence clings, 

I heard outside my open door 
Light-footed, furry things. 

Till with the dawn the stars grew dim 
They danced for very joy, 

Scampering shyly round about, 
Fearless of gun or boy. 

Low towards the golden East, beneath 

An iridescent hill, 
A village lapped in waves of mist 

Lay unsuspected still. 
[17] 



Through a new day made fair by you 

I spurn the dusty earth, 
My joyous heart this morning greets 

The day that saw your birth. 

But how be sure this is the morn 
When each one is the same — 

Since flowers are brighter, stars draw near, 
If you but speak my name? 



[i8] 



FORGIVENESS 

Let not the past rise up between us, dear, 
I would not as a suppliant draw near. 
Nor grant faint absolution for a wrong 
That memory's ravages would fain prolong; 
Yet when we meet again, as meet we must, 
I know that my resentment, your distrust. 
Shall cease to be. We two who faced to- 
gether 
Death and his brother Fear, need not ask 

whether 
Your hand or mine shall be the first to grasp 
The other's in an eager, pardoning clasp. 



[19] 



HER EYES 

Some vow their true love's eyes are blue 

As gentians in September ; 
My mistress looked me through and through, 

Yet can I not remember 
Whether her eyes are brown or gray, 

(Pray do not let her hear it!) 
I think of mountain brooks in May — 

Her eyes? — I saw her spirit! 



[20] 



A PRAYER 

The past is dead, the present flies, 
The future far beyond us lies; 
I can but give thee, O most dear, 
In memory of that past, a tear, 
While that thy future may be fair 
Shall be my never-ceasing prayer. 
This present grief, to thee unknown. 
Lord, let it break my heart alone ! 



[21] 



YOUR COLOURS 

Better my fault than yours, I say; 
At least that love I threw away 

Was gold, not dross. 
Mistrust deprived me of life's best, 
I failed in love's soul-searching test, 
And now must face with heart oppressed 

My bitter loss. 

But you ? I thank the gods alone 
That I can see you, O my own, 

Above me still ! 
What though I fail, if you succeed? 
Still shall I pray, though my heart bleed. 
That you may never know my need. 

Your joy to chill. 

[22] 



Forgiveness now I dare not ask, 
But when I finish life's hard task, 

Then may you know 
I did not, through these years of grief 
Seek in forgetfulness, relief. 
Nor waver in my firm belief 

That time would show 

To Heaven, to all the world and you, 
Who are my world, that I was true 

To love at last. 
How through these dark and lonely years, 
Down which, perplexed, I groped with tears, 
I kept your colours, midst all fears, 

Nailed to the mast! 



[23] 



MNEMOSYNE 

If to remember be to think of thee 

By day and night, in sunshine and gray 
weather, 
Then from this tyranny I would be free, 
Forget the past, or live it through 
together. 
I need no teaching from Mnemosyne 

How quick hearts are to break, how hard 
to tether! 



[24] 



IN MEMORIAM 

Some creep into a tardy grave, unsung, 

Your vigour cannot now grow chill with 
years. 
You are for ever eager, active, young; 

The great adventure past, no earthly fears 
Can touch that buoyant spirit which among 
The stars now lives, untrammelled, with 
its peers. 



[25] 



A DREAM 

Dreaming of you, long j-ears of grief, 
Like a leaf, 
Fell away. 

A leaf, I said? Ah, many a one. 
Till there shone 

Through the gray. 

What but sky overhead ! 
And I said: 

" Now at last 

Lies the truth within my reach. 
Harsh jour speech 
In the past; 
[26] 



Did you mean each cruel word? " 
Like a bird 

Past my cheek, 

Fluttered yours. "Dear heart, no! 
But I'll go 

If you speak 

Or think of that ! " Though troubled, shy, 
Fearlessly 

Our eyes met. 

There was healing in your glance. 
Quick, my chance 
"I forget 






[27] 



THE AUDACIOUS RACE 

With you beside me, easy were the task, 
Your strengthening hand in mine, light 
were my grief; 
Now you have failed me, 'tis of God I ask 
For help. How often He Who should be 
chief 
In all our thoughts must take the second 
place ! 
We scorn love infinite and then we wonder 
That finite love scorns us. Audacious race, 
That braves the lightning-bolt yet dreads 
the thunder ! 



[28] 



MY PRISON-WALL 

Now Spring is here, the fields are green, 
And each day earlier comes the morn; 

The little birds chirp, sing and preen, 
I only am forlorn. 

The earth with warm and misty rain 
Her youth and innocence renews, 

The sower scatters, but in vain 
My soul for pardon sues. 

I sought to turn love into hate 
And let mistrust hold me in thrall, 

And now I see, alas, too late, 
I built my prison-wall! 
[29] 



THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE 

The Master opened wide the gate 

That all should enter; desperate 

And poor, they thronged, maimed, halt and 

blind. 
Not one, reluctant, lagged behind, 
Disconsolate. 

Hard hit by life and wounded sore 
They hastened through the welcoming door, 
Within was rest and heavenly peace, 
God's promise that their pain should cease 
For evermore. 

Behold them clustering round the board: 
Joy lightens all the motley horde. 
The Master of the House brings wine. 
Breaks bread with hands nail-scarred, divine; 
They know their Lord. 
[30] 



Without, there stand with vision sealed 
The unscathed few, unhurt, unhealed; 
These trusted in their strength alone, 
Had wife and oxen for their own, 
Or new-bought field. 

Too late for them their joy so bright 
Proves but the glamour of their night, 
They had their chance, they made their 

choice. 
They heeded not the Master's voice. 
Nor sought the Light. 



[31] 



A HAPPY MARRIAGE 

She smiled in after years to think she had 

sent him 
A blue-bound Landor which to her spelt 

Greece, 
And classic clearness and intensity, 
Proud English passion and that Roman peace 
Won by the clash of arms; all this she meant 

him 
To share with her. 

She saw in him the young Endymion, 
And Harry Hotspur mounted on his horse. 
All pent-up youth struggling for liberty, 
All strength and beauty lavished on an age 
Grown tedious, thanks to those dull tasks 
which he 

[32] 



Would willingly forego. Some one, of 

course, 
Must plod, but merciless oblivion 
Envelops plodders in a fog so chill 
As to warn off the wise. Upon life's stage 
He sought the centre with unerring skill; 
He spoke so little, his opinion counted, 
Though most with those who in a noble rage 
Scorn the poor high-brow on his high steed 

mounted. 



While she, a creature quivering like a flame 

With life and aspiration, represented 

To him — not sympathy — why think of 

others ? 
Nor poetry — to him the merest name — 
Nor that divinest love which all true 

mothers 
Offer as homage to the young, nor blame 
The helpless for what is their parents' 

shame. 

[33] 



Now, though to matrimony he had consented, 
Because at thirty youth flies all too fast. 
Life did not mean to him that sacred torch, 
Which stumbling, spent, the dying runner 

handed 
To other youths, for but one purpose banded, 
To guard that flickering light and get it past 
All obstacles, safe to the goal at last. 

There is no test like time; his marriage 
taught him 

How years could pass, smooth, not devoid of 
zest. 

Though he was kept outside, as it were, not 
wanted. 

Basking his days out on life's sunny porch. 

No problem rose at which she quailed and 
sought him, 

She grappled with each one alone, un- 
daunted, 

While he, spared all misgiving like a child. 

Lived on complacently and little guessed 
[34] 



That on their honeymoon, when doubts as- 
sailed her 
She rightly took the blame. He had not 

failed her; 
When had he claimed to be a haven of rest, 
A tower of strength amidst the ravening 

tribes 
Of doubt and disillusion and despair? 
So, sheltered from the fierce and scorching air 
Of truth, a case for sympathy, not gibes, 
He throve on that which she, repentant, 

brought him, 
In payment of an unsuspected debt. 
Which he could never guess nor she forget; 
And when she died, worn out, before her hair 
Was gray, he thought death for the first time 

veiled her 
From his accustomed eyes. She was the best 
Of women, that he knew, and on her piled 
Great marble blocks to tell whom she had 

blessed — 
Perhaps she, motherly, saw it all, and smiled! 
[35] 



SONNETS AND QUATR.AINS 



IN THE TRAIN 

Back to the hills at last, eternal, bare, 

Far from the city's hurrying wharves that 

reek 
Of tar and oil and salt sea-foam, to seek 
Amidst the upland slopes a purer air; 
Past factory towns and placid streams I fare, 
Past meadows filled with cattle slow and 

sleek. 
To well-cropped pastures girt with ledges 

bleak 
And gray, with children picking berries there. 
You townsman in your counting-house im- 
mured 
Think liberty is bought, and gather gold, 
Hoping to find on your untroubled path 
The gift that comes but as war's aftermath; 
Yet God spake through adversity of old. 
And freedom gave to those who much en- 
dured. 

[39] 



ONLY A YEAR AGO 

Only a year ago! How strange it seems 
To look back to the day I saw 30U first; 
I shall not soon forget those stairs, the worst 
I know ! I knocked and waited. — In my dreams 
The memory of that first glimpse of you re- 
deems 
This year of every bitterness, you stand 
With smiling eyes and eager, outstretched 

hand. 
But when I wake, my heart with anguish 

teems, 
Remembering how these weary months and 

slow 
We've met like strangers and your very smile 
Has raised a barrier hard to overthrow. 
Yet God must hear my prayer ; at last that 

door 
Shall open wide for me, your friend once 

more — 
But ah, the long gray years loom dark mean- 
while! 

[40] 



THE COST 

The thought of help you might have given, 
For lack of which one soul was lost, 

Could make the veriest Hell of Heaven. 
You kept your skirts clean — at what cost! 



[41] 



A PARTING GIFT 

Though all is over, surely when you read 

This book of verse I give you as I go, 

My hid intent you'll guess and say: "I 

know 
How this wild passage answered to his need 
And taught him that the fighter's highest meed 
Is just the clash of battle; here his woe 
Speaks through another's words; in this 

fierce glow 
Of passion, his own heart doth faint and 

bleed." 
Here in this treasure-house of time, but wait 
For me a breathing-space, that I may turn 
And meet you there in spirit, since harsh 

Fate, 
Envying our joy, has placed a barrier stern 
Between our paths, and I must henceforth 

learn 
To live remote from one I met too late. 

[42] 



THE HARDER TASK 

When, years ago, our friendship still was 

new, 
I prayed that I might die for you, my friend; 
Through one supreme endeavour would I 

send 
My heart's devotion forth, proving to you 
And all the world beside, how strong and 

true 
The friendship needs must be which at the 

end 
Death the inexorable could not bend. 
And thus love with eternal life endue. 
My prayer's intent God answered, cast away 
My vaunting words, for 'tis not death but 

life, 
Bereft of you, in endless, lonely strife 
Which must to you alone my love display. 
My life for yours I sought but to resign; 
Yet God is good, a harder task is mine. 

[43] 



WAR 

I dreamt men were indifferent and blind 
To human suffering, and woke to laugh 

At this mad fancy. Men, I know, are kind, 
I whispered, half awake — then thought of 
war! 



[44] 



THE BEQUEST 

Dying to-night, what could I leave to you 
Who taught me all that makes life rich and 

fair, 
God's immanence felt in the evening air. 
His mercy in the pang with which we rue 
The footstep which has crushed the worm? 

Ah, true 
As steel were you when blighting doubt else- 
where 
O'erwhelmed me; but for you, clouds of de- 
spair 
And self-distrust yet hid from me Heaven's 

blue! 
Love, courage, constancy and faith are yours, 
I'd leave to you a world that cries for aid, 
A suffering multitude whose anguish pours 
Unheeded down their furrowed cheeks. Dis- 
mayed 
By nothing human, your soul heavenward soars 
In lowly service, loving all God made. 

^[45] 



THE TROJAN WOMEN 

HARVARD STADIUM, MAY 19TH, 1915 

As once in Troy, the sun sinks towards the 

West, 
And far off, underneath the self-same sky, 
Three half-clad runners on the green flit by — 
So little change the years have wrought! 

The test 
Of war proves all our progress vain, con- 
fessed 
A failure. Overseas tonight there lie 
Hosts slain since dawn, while thousands long 

to die. 
Women like these, by ruthless War op- 
pressed. 
What's Hecuba to us? Ah, here's the gain! 
While Belgium, Poland, Serbia blot the world 
Which once has felt the shadow of the Cross, 
Their deep bereavement is the whole earth's 

loss; 
We scorn complacent ease, Christ's flag un- 
furled, 
Gethsemane inscribed there, not in vain ! 
[46] 



MIZPAH 

O God, in mercy watch between 

Two friends whom life alone could sunder; 
When healing Death wipes out old scores, 

Forgive my crime, forget his blunder. 



[47] 



WHAT HE SAW 

The world says you are beautiful, how 

strange 
To learn this first from others, hear men tell 
How radiant is the face I know so well. 
How exquisite that mouth whose strong 

curves change 
Through humour to compassion, the whole 

range 
Of life. They say those eyes whose depth 

serene. 
Unfathomable draws me, when first seen 
Claim homage in one glance's interchange. 
Such loveliness escaped me, still T knew 
That where you were, pain fled and courage 

grew. 
I felt, with you to beckon, life should cease 
To spell despair; while there's a fight to win. 
Even such as I, struggling afresh with sin, 
Through this eternal warfare might find peace. 

[48] 



TO HIS OLD LOVE 

"Well met!" As hand grasped hand with 

words of cheer 
My new-love's eyes sought mine, a glance 

that must, 
From eyes like childhood's own, pierce 

through the dust 
Down to the soul beneath. How crystal-clear 
Her look, sure of herself and me! A year 
Of misery and doubt and self-distrust 
Was wiped out for an instant, then I thrust 
The Lethe-cup aside, remembering, dear, 
A far off hillside where the sweetbriar grows, 
At thought of whose brave pungency, the rose 
I'd sing is clean forgot; my steps are bent 
Once more to stony paths that upward lead: 
What though your image ever must recede, 
If you but show the way, I am content. 



[49] 



WAITING 

Still waiting for the word that might have 
saved, 
Punished too harshly for I knew not what, 
Perplexed, bewildered, through the years I 
craved 
My friend's forgiveness. She, instead, for- 
got. 



[50] 



NOW GRIEF IS DEAD 

Now grief is dead I am indeed forlorn. 
Hope vanished first with all that I held dear; 
Then courage, though her voice so clarion- 
clear 
Once summoned hosts to battle, as the morn 
Awoke the thrush to greet a day new-born ; 
Yet grief trod ever at my side, austere, 
Silent as the first snowfall of the year; 
Her face still kept your image, passion-torn. 
Before my eyes in deathless memory. 
But now indifferent, my heart a stone, 
I grope my way in unsought liberty. 
Through haunts once hallowed by your light, 

shy tread. 
Untouched by joy or sorrow, numbed, alone, 
For I am living, only grief is dead. 



[51] 



TO 

(physician, sculptor) 

We grow, alas, no younger day by day, 
And you, whose life is spent in ceaseless toil 
For others, pouring out the wine and oil 
With hands so capable and loving, may 
Before the allotted time be worn and gray; 
Life's duties multitudinous may foil 
Once more the artist's heart; beneath the 

soil, 
At last, your talent shall be hid away. 
The inchoate clay and marble shall conceal 
Beauty still undisclosed, while to your mind. 
The loveliness you can alone reveal, 
Throughout the ages shall remain confined; 
But well know we, whose suffering you heal, 
To sacrifice like yours God is not blind. 



[52] 



HOPE 

Wild Hope, return, though in nny breast 
The eternal struggle surge anew; 

Let others pray for peace and rest, 

I choose the field, the sword, and you! 



[53] 



PEACE 

When evening falls the wind-tossed boughs 

are still, 
And in the quiet pool's mysterious face 
Lie mirrored breathless; there is now no trace 
Of the wild blast that whistled keen and shrill, 
Wreaking since dawn its harsh, relentless will, 
While red and gold-touched leaves in mad- 
dest race 
Swept earthwards fast, leaving bare twigs 

like lace 
Outlined against blue sky and purple hill. 
Thus when life ends, may I find rest at last. 
And may the doubts and fears that shake my 

soul 
Be silenced utterly; while to this heart 
That beat for one alone, freed from a past 
So full of anguish, by Death's touch made 

whole, 
May God His greatest gift of peace impart. 

' [54] 



"OUR DOUBTS ARE TRAITORS" 

I asked for trust and gave you as its price 
Reluctant faith, dishonouring us both; 
Friendship's deep silence praised, yet nothing 

loath. 
Tore words to tatters; nought else would suf- 
fice 
But substance for the shade to sacrifice. 
You watched, uncomprehending, did not 

blame, 
While I with souls for counters played Hell's 

game, 
And lost it, for the Foe cast loaded dice. 
Now through the needless ruin of a life, 
I see you standing patient as before. 
Only a bit more lonely, as the knife 
With which I threatened rattles to the floor. 
Your trust I killed with long and futile strife, 
And now must walk alone for evermore. 



[55] 



VICTORY AND DEFEAT 

To them that conquer in the fight, 
Even wounds are welcome, pain is light; 
But to the vanquished, Death's hand rests. 
Dreaded, yet longed for, on their breasts. 



[56] 



AN OFFERING 

What can I give to Thee ? The future lies 
Shrouded in mystery; no man would care 
To offer such a shadowy gift, though fair 
It still may seem to his expectant eyes. 
The fleeting present far too swiftly flies 
To furnish aught of value. Should I dare 
Call up the past, lay all its secrets bare 
Upon Thine altar? Never! my heart cries. 
Yet through the labyrinth Who traced the 

road? 
Who through the mire held out a Hand to 

save? 
Homeward I struggled, knowing at the end 
A Door stood open and, within, a Friend. 
The past still had its use which by sin's goad 
Impelled me towards the peace which all men 

crave. 



[57] 



UNCERTAINTY 

Dear, if in mercy you'd but speak your heart, 
Whether you loved or hated me, just so 
I knew the best or worst Time had to show, 
Even though I saw all hope of bliss depart, 
I think that I could bear it, hide the smart, 
Brace shoulders quick beneath the sudden 

blow, 
And easier face a shipwrecked life of woe 
Than this uncertain sea without a chart. 
And yet to see the years before me spread 
With courage gone and gray despair instead 
Dogging my weary footsteps as I passed 
Dumb, shadow-like through life half-lived 

and vain — 
Could I endure this? Ah, let hope again 
Her saving glamour on the future cast! 



[58] 



MOURN NOT 

Mourn not for happiness once tasted, 

Though when it flies grief stays behind 

At least life was not wholly wasted, 
If once to you the gods were kind. 



[59] 



AT YOUR FEET 

You say your spirit dreads the mountain peaks 
Where love enshrines you, and that I shall find 
Too late, alas, my passion made me blind; 
My soul, misguided, seeking yours, but seeks 
A phantom of the brain, you say, that speaks 
From your sweet lips; that could I see behind 
New love's deep glamour, search your heart 

and mind. 
Fled were the spell of these mad, rapturous 

weeks. 
You fear I know you not? Though you be 

right, 
Yet pity, honour, truth and love I know. 
And worship at the shrine where best they 

meet; 
'Tis not you only, but the heavenly light 
Your spirit radiates in a steady glow, 
Which makes me lay my heart down at your 

feet. 



[60] 



COME, RADIANT DEATH 

Come, radiant Death, with healing in thy 

train 
To where, by treacherous foes beset, I fight. 
And see the battle lost, though for the right 
I strove throughout life's lonely press. Again 
And yet again, undaunted, heart and brain 
Repelled all day the tireless host, but night 
Descends at last, even hope is fled, no light 
Shines on my path, the struggle was in vain. 
Tarry no longer, Death, men need thee now. 
Thy healing touch on passion's throbbing 

brow. 
Thy seal on wavering promises. Despair 
Need none, for mercy rules the world, and all, 
Though beaten in life's battle, hear thy call 
At last, and know surcease from grief and 

care. 



[6i] 



TRANSLATIONS 



RONDEL 

Old Winter has put off his cloak 
Of bitter winds and piercing rain, 
And Spring, to make her broidered train, 
Must the bright sunbeams' aid invoke; 
While all the furred and feathered folk 
Lift up their voice in glad refrain: 
Old Winter has put off his cloak 
Of bitter winds and piercing rain. 

Brook, spring and rill their bounds have broke 

And livery new may now attain; 

New raiment all things have bespoke. 

Old Winter has put off his cloak 

Of bitter winds and piercing rain. 

Charles d'Orleans. 
[65] 



CHANT DE MAI ET DE VERTU 

Eagerly in the month of May 
The earth her being doth renew; 
Lovers this impulse oft obey, 
To love itself are they untrue; 
Unstable hearts and minds have they, 
And elsewhere seek for greater cheer: 
I in my love take not this view. 
My love endures from year to year. 

No maid so fair but shall grow gray, 
Time soon will dull her beauty's hue, 
To care and sickness once a prey, 
111 looks to all soon find the clue; 
But she to whom I'm ever true 
Can calmly let old age draw near, 
Her beauty seeming ever new, 
My love endures from year to year. 



For she of whom all this I say, 

Is that immortal nymph, Virtue, 

To honour's heights she showed the way. 

While her adorers round her drew. 

" Come, lovers, come, I wait for you, 

Come up to me, none interfere; 

Come," cried the maid, seeking her due, 

" My love endures from year to year." 

Envoi 

This mistress. Prince, if you pursue, 
And learn to make your love sincere, 
Soon shall you say, and never rue. 
My love endures from year to year. 

Clement Marot. 



[67] 



TO HELEN 

When old age comes, at eve by candle-light, 
Spinning and weaving, seated near the blaze, 
You'll sing my verses in a glad amaze: 
Thus Ronsard praised me ere my beauty's 

flight. 
The hand-maid, doubting if she hears aright, 
Through her half-slumber, fruit of weary days. 
Catching my name, shall wake to hear the 

lays 
That bless your name with deathless memo- 
ries bright. 
Beneath the sod, safe from life's winds and 

snows. 
By myrtled paths my soul shall find repose; 
While next the hearth, you, bent with age 

and sorrovjT, 
Shall mourn my love and your too proud dis- 
dain. 
Live now, believe me, such regret is vain. 
Life's roses pluck today, nor wait the mor- 
row. Pierre de Ronsard. 
[68] 



SONNET 

If our life here is but a single day 

In heavenly eyes, if the revolving year 

Disperses hours which ne'er can reappear, 

If all we see is born to fade away. 

Why shouldst thou wish, my captive soul, to 

stay. 
Choosing the darkness of our daylight drear? 
Why dost thou not with heart triumphant 

steer 
To brighter dwelling-place thy winged way? 
There is that virtue which all hearts desire. 
There is the rest to which we all aspire, 
There too is love, and joy not known before; 
There thou, my soul, to highest Heaven led,^ 
The earth relinquishing, shalt see instead 
The ideal beauty which we here adore. 

Joachim du Bellay. 



[69] 



SONNET 

'Tis good, Ulysses-like, to wander far, 
Or else to seek and find the golden fleece, 
Then homeward fare in Wisdom's full in- 
crease, 
To dwell amidst- one's own, remote from 

war. 
When shall I see, beneath the evening star, 
My hamlet's smoke-crowned roof, when shall 

I cease 
My quest and by my chimney-nook find peace. 
Secure in my own land from battle's jar? 
Dearer the hut my forbears built of old 
Than Roman palace filled with captive gold; 
Dearer than lustrous marble my dull slate, 
Dearer my Gallic Loire than Tiber's might, 
Dearei small Lyre than Rome's lofty site. 
Higher than briny winds home's air I esti- 
mate. 

Joachim du Bell ay. 

[703 



ICARUS 

'Twas here fell Icarus! Nought could appal 

The youth who towards Heaven's ramparts 
winged his flight; 

Here fell he vanquished, stript of feathers 
quite, 

Yet noble hearts must envy such a fall. 

O fortunate endeavour! Glory's call 

Thus answered brings such meed for pain 
so slight! 

O fortunate mishap ! Oblivion's night 

Before such valour stays her leaden pall! 

At this unwonted path his youth ne'er quailed ; 

Intrepid still, though powerless, he failed. 

The sun's all-glorious rays wrought his de- 
feat; 

He died, nor sought an easy victory, 

High Heaven his goal, his shroud the silver 
sea, 

Know ye a loftier aim, a kinglier winding- 
sheet ? 

Philippe Desportes. 
[71] 



EPITAPH 

ON ELIZABETH RANQUET 

Shed not a single tear upon this stone, 
O passer-by, this is a bed of price; 
Here lies of purest form the ash alone, 
Blest by her heart's undying sacrifice. 
With Nature's debt unpaid, this life outgrown. 
Her soul reached heights still hidden to the 

eyes; 
With the Creator was the creature one, 
Though still on earth, Heaven only could 

suffice. 
The poor, not she herself, enjoyed her treas- 
ure. 
Humility and care were all her pleasure, 
Her dying sigh was one of love. Ah, stay, 
Fired by her faith, nor sorrow overmuch, 
And far from thinking she has left our day. 
Believe that souls like hers feel not Death's 
touch. 

Pierre de Corneille. 

[72] 



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